"I hope there's something left of the old Sirius, the Sirius who was my friend. The boy who left a chocolate frog in my desk, every morning after a full moon." Introspective Remus ficlet; takes place during PoA.

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Chocolate Memories

There's a chocolate frog in my desk drawer.

I found it this morning as I started clearing up, exhausted but too keyed up with nervous energy to rest before morning lessons. Sirius was here. Here, in this castle, in Harry's dormitory. I shudder as I think how close we came. Harry could have died, or even one of the other ladsit was sheer luck Ronald Weasley cried out when he did.

Not that the presence of chocolate in my desk is such an odd thing, in and of itself. I like to be prepared, after all. Over a decade living off the cuff, danger lurking 'round each bend, and all that rubbish. Any Defense teacher worth his salt would keep a bar or two (or six) on hand for emergencies. Especially in these times.

But I don't carry the frogs anymore. Not since...

I can't believe Sirius has escaped. Don't know what to feel, certainly. Albus and Minerva are kindness itself, but I still feel Severus' hostile glare, settling into the space between my shoulderblades as cozily as a well-aimed dagger. He prepares the potion as a favor to Dumbledore, certainly not out of any regard for me.

I'd been searching the castle since a bit after midnight, carefully checking the secret passages and haunts that Sirius used to frequent when we were students here. And feeling guilty, because Snape is right. I may not be in league with Sirius, but I am protecting him. I know how Sirius got in. I know how he escaped Azkaban, slipping past the Dementors. I know, but... I haven't yet gathered the courage to confess it to Albus.

I'm not sure of his reaction. The Headmaster would be in his rights to dismiss me on the spot. And I deserve it, but I can't afford to lose this position. Not while Sirius is loose, and Harry unprotected. If worse comes to worst, I may be the only one who can stop Sirius from hurting Harry. Dumbledore knows it.

I hope I can. I hope there's something left of the old Sirius, the Sirius who was my friend. The boy who laughed at Peter's jokes even when they weren't funny. The boy who teased James about his crush on Lily, and raced him to the kitchens for a midnight raid. The boy who left a chocolate frog in my desk, every morning after a full moon.

Sirius was better off shut up in Azkaban, where I didn't have to think of him. Only every second of every day. Ironically, my only surcease these long, lonely years has been the wolf. He hungers and he hunts and he hurts. Screams out his hatred. Rages in the night and leaves me weak and shaken like a newborn cub come dawn. But he does so as an animal, and I don't have to remember...

I didn't have to remember him as the wolf.

Things have been different with the potion. In some ways it's worse, because I can't escape my thoughts by slipping down beneath the wolf. Drown in his helpless rage. Now, the wolf and I are one. And we both want to hunt. We both want him, torn viciously under our teeth and claws, crying out in the fear that must have gripped his victims. Begging for mercy, as poor Lily had done.

Damn you, Sirius. You had it all. James and Lily. Peter. Harry. Me. Why did you throw it all away to kneel at Voldemort's feet?

I survey the contents of my desk warily. Quills and blotted scraps of parchment, extra bottles of ink for marking. A few loose odds and ends I've confiscated from several of the children in past days. Correspondence to which I have not yet replied. A button which wanted reattaching to my second-best coat sleeve. And, looking innocuous in the lower left-hand corner... a chocolate frog. I plucked the chocolate up and held it in my hand, senses already extended in case it is cursed or charmed somehow. Subtle work, even for you. But there is nothing.

I might have overlooked it, or even popped it in my mouth absently as I worked (I always had a weakness for chocolate), except...

I haven't had a chocolate frog since that terrible day when I learned of James and Lily... Harry... Peter... and you. Too many memories of childhood tied to it, bitter memories which would have made the sweetness of the candy run sour.

Sirius was here. Here, in this castle, in my office. He's left me this chocolate frog as... what, exactly? A threat? A message? A warning?

Part of me still wants to believe in you, Padfoot. But the rest just wants you dead.

The chocolate has become soft and malleable in the warmth of my fist. A burst of anger, and I crush it. Just as I am about to discard it in the wastebin, it occurs to me that the frog could be poisoned. I should take it to Severus, but... no. A whispered invocation, and the chocolate frog is no more. Was it poisoned, in the hopes that I might eat it? A low blow; certainly not what I would expect from Sirius Black. But it turned out that I didn't know him at all.

Not at all.